


Past Tense

by XP1



Category: The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files, The X-Files RPF
Genre: Gen, Hi Welcome To Chili's, I'm so sorry, Inspired by Twitter, The Airport - Freeform, but also mostly not, chilli's, gillian anderson - Freeform, what am i even doing with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 23:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XP1/pseuds/XP1
Summary: Gillian Anderson tweeted (twote?) out a reference to a fic, and then wouldn't it be funny, reddit thought, ifthere was a story about her reading fanfiction and I had some free time today in between self-loathing and doubt so I jotted this down and I have #noRegrets.





	Past Tense

**Author's Note:**

> Jesus christ. Alright, here me out.
> 
> 'Bout a week ago Ms Anderson tweeted out this: https://twitter.com/GillianA/status/953809292120948736
> 
> in reference, I hope, dear god, to this fic: http://whispersofx.net/whispersofx/stories/airport.txt
> 
> And then someone on reddit said wouldn't it be great to write a fic of her reading fic and well, here we are.
> 
> I need to be clear: Real People Fanfic (which is apparantly a thing?!) makes me so uncomfortable on a deep fundamental level because these aren't fictional characters, these are real people with real lives and feelings and problems and voices, but I am at heart, a clown, and the potential for hilarity in this exercise was a siren sound too sweet to ignore.
> 
> Okay then. Here we go.

**PAST TENSE**

 

She breathed in slowly and out evenly as she returned from The Fall. She bid goodnight to Stella as the intensity faded with the wrap of the day. Tough scene, but a good one. Perhaps her finest work yet. Still, it required investment and intensity and...well...she was having trouble letting go of the thought of a sixteen year old girl, really, still just a child, falling prey to real monsters, out in the real world.

Her phone blipped in her hand, returned from the on set insistence on silence. An email from DDuke@mulderfan.net. She swept it open, amused. The fic account. Huh. Well, it had been awhile. So he'd found something worth seeing even though she still owed him after that last Skinner/Spongebob one.

The message said "The Airport" followed only by "I'm sorry." and the dumb flourish of a signature, D==D, because ding-dongs were funny.

"Woof...", she exhaled, clicking the link. The page loaded up and the date made her cringe. Her car was waiting to take her off set so she settled back in the seat and buckled up for the upcoming ride.

The title was "The Airport", with a little note, haha, and a dig.

She read the first paragraph and then read the second and then started all over to try to read them again. The fourth time it started to make some temporal sense.

She stifled a sigh and committed to the challenge implied in their "i'm bored on set" game: No smiling no laughing, loser buys the set drinks. She was tired and drained, but committed and read.

She was trying to come up with a sound that might fit the "growl thing" description but the word "Chili's" shone by in short order and she's almost lost before she's even begun.

Few restaurant names are more comedic than "Chili's". Fudruckers, maybe, but wasn't that more of a regional thing?

Not bad, she thought, complimenting his gambit, but she knew if that hadn't tripped her she could probably push through. She was a pro at the top of her game, and though the word evoked horrors of neon and nuisance, she kept her face still and refused even the thought of a laugh.

The third paragraph is tougher, but she does not fight alone. She summoned Gibson to guide her, and Stella whispered strength to her. "Just a broken table dear, par for the course in these stories." She agreed and thanked Gibson, but Stella wasn't quite done. "Now the waiter, there's a twist..."

"Down girl" she chided quietly at the character's words. "You're not helping." she said inwardly, fighting a smile.

Stella Gibson showed herself out but in parting replied that "The waiter might help...".

Affirmations of self allowed her to continue. "I am a professional actor" she thought, letting the surety of the words block the wheezing doubled over guffawing that all this very nearly ripped out. "I am Gillian Fucking Anderson, and I am in control".

The words were familiar and she repeated them often. Many times they had helped her sooth away snicker fits. She hadn't failed a challenge yet and she'd be damned to start now. She got through that MulderxBountyHunter sickfic and she would damn well get through this.

She continued to read, her expression constructing a cool placid mask. The mask did not move as she pressed on, though her  
breathing constricted when the word "purrs" appeared. She drank deep of composure when the unbidden image of the scene popped into her thoughts, only this time there was heavy pantomime meowing punctuating the character's words.

The next lines were skimmed but "musky" stood out. She sighed inwardly and idly starting ticking off boxes in her thoughts. Of course musky was there, and as she skimmed onwards she saw that so too were 'Diana' and 'raised eyebrow' and 'hands on her hips'. The little boxes filled up, tick, tick, and tick.

'Dork Juan' is a new one, and she'll have to remember to toss it at him sometime, and she's doing okay until "Chili's" reappears and her affirmations are almost too late to save her a second time.

This version of Scully, so innocently intense, threatens to break her already, and she's only a third of the way in. The long idle Agent Scully grumbles deep in her mind, objecting to the characterization but she waffles and flip flops, uncertain how to respond after being dormant so long. She wonders who Scully was and who she may have become, but that was so long ago and they have both moved on.

The fajitas are ordered, commanded!... with plenty of guac and she needs to look away from the screen and out into the world to strengthen her resolve.

Wistful memories of hard work and hard schedules tug at her heart, and it's so disapointing sometimes to be asked only about them, to be asked only to comment on old lives and old characters, when there's so much more to her and so much more she has done. Still one must be grateful, because everything past led her to where she where she is now, a priviledged professional in that she can afford to push her art and herself. There is food in her belly and safe children in beds, and her work lets her push boundaries she didn't even know that she had.

She thanks the moment as it passes, and steadies her breath. Now where was she?...ah, yes. Fajitas. How could she forget?

There's a tick! in a box because there's the word "giggle", but part of her wonders at what Agent Scully's giggle might sound like. She seems to vaguely remember loaning Scully her own, and supposes she could if it ever came up again.

Fajitas arrive and she's no longer wistful, instead breathing deep belly breaths to guard from reflexive chortles, because it's a fucking funny word and if said as it's spelled it was so stupidly lewd.

She's made it through to part two and she's proud of herself, however "tongue" has shown up over four times and she now owes 'DDuke' a Coke.

She trips her eyes idly past odd dialogue. Somewhere in the maze of the phrasing someone starts singing a song. He's now owed a Coke -and- five bucks, but she never remembers and he never collects. Her active mind distracted, other thoughts now float free.

She thinks maybe she missed the sex scene but doesn't scroll back to check. There was still a third left to go and her journey was almost done.

She's half-thinking about Loretta and how she's kind of like Blanche when the waiter pops up and Stella comes back. Gibson's aglow at the thought of a threesome, but quiets down when further reading reveals he's just there for show.

"Spoilsport." Stella flings playfully to the author and in the free thoughts of her musing she wonders how long it's been since Stella Gibsion fully smiled.

Someone's doing something and someone is in someone, under a table, in a "Chilli's" at 2 in the mornin, but the words barely register until a "Mulder starts bawling" and the shock of tone shift almost causes her forfeit. She's on her guard now, concentrating, renewing her focus, as she Yadda Yadda's through passion like Elaine Bennes once did.

Now the text reads 'I love you' because of course it does and then it's all mercifully over in that dank airport bar.

She lets out a long breath and consideres her triumph. Not bad, she thinks, proud, coulda gone worse. Last time she'd shrieked out a giggle and could not keep the grin off her face.

She is wished a good night at her destination, and as she moves to the door GilligAN_Gurl emails him back. "Not even close" is all that is in the reply, but as she hits send she can't help but bark out a laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> What the fuck am I even doing with my life.


End file.
